Cripples, Bastards & Broken Things
by agentcarter12
Summary: "So...lemme get this straight." He says, not sure what he's trying to get at. Maybe he's humoring them. Or mocking them. "What you're saying is you want me to go back to the past and fix your relationship after you two said you were never ever, ever getting back together, am I right?" Oh Lord, he can hear some girl name Taylor Swift singing this over and over again.


It starts considerably okay. Apart from the fact that Logan can hear girls with bells singing 'matchmaker matchmaker' in the background, it's okay. Two of the most powerful mutants in history are in front of him. He's not impressed.

"So...lemme get this straight." He says, not sure what he's trying to get at. Maybe he's humoring them. Or mocking them. "What you're saying is you want me to go back to the past and _fix_ your relationship after you two said you were never ever, ever getting back together, am I right?"

Oh Lord, he can hear some girl name Taylor Swift singing this over and over again. Maybe the telepath and metallokinetic did a cover of it. It's not impossible. Stranger things have happened to him. Hell, stranger things are being asked of him right now.

The two mutants turn to consult with each other, and then turn to him.

"Yes, that's about it." The guy- Xavier? - says.

"I see no problems with that." The other, more serious one says.

Logan will give that to him; he has a damn good poker face. So, instead of managing to rile up two mutants who can kill him, he's managed to hit the mark for best description ever without even meaning to. Some moments he wonders if lady luck like playing games with him. This is one of those moments.

"Let's do this thing."

His claws rip out with the sound of tearing skin and a metallic glint from reflected light- and for a moment, the girl named Taylor swift stops singing and loud anticipated action movie sequence music starts up.

But then, the wheelchair dude looks at the other one and he can feel Taylor's voice drowning out his beloved action music. He sighs and goes.

X

Of all the things Logan has had to endure in his considerable life, there is nothing that has truly wrecked him. Nothing. Not the laying of adamantium, not losing his memories- nothing. Well, nothing except for this conversation.

Apparently, the younger versions of the telepath and metallokinetic have more issues than a twenty one year old married couple with four children and two shifts at Dunkin Donuts whose parents have cut ties with. He's sitting in a chair, which would be much more comfortable without the conversation going around him.

"You _left_ me, Erik!" Young telepath yells, a betrayed look on his face.

"I didn't leave you, _you_ left me!" The accursed Erik yells right back.

Logan can barely make sense of why he's here listening to _this _instead of doing something helpful, but it's like a small hammer continuously clonking on his head. They've been going on for _hours._

"You. Left. Me. On a beach. IN CUBA!" Xavier says, voice slowly rising towards a climax.

Apparently, Erik is unfazed. "YOU TOLD ME TO LEAVE!" he booms, and Logan doesn't even wince. That's how far he's gone. Where's the animal with the claws, blood appetite and three hundred pounds of adamantium, you ask? Oh, he's turned into a marriage counselor for two of the most powerful mutants born.

And now they go on to blaming, completely ignoring the elephant in the room, and young professor X yells, "You _shot_ the PRESIDENT!"

Erik gasps, outraged, before replying. "I was trying to _save _the president!"

"I HATE YOU!" Xavier roars, but it holds more anger than actual meaning.

"I HATE YOU MORE!" Erik booms, fuming. His voice has the same quality of Charles'.

_I hate you both times infinity, _Logan wants to say, but he's too out of order for that. He's a shell of a man he used to be. Screw world war two, this is what's going to haunt him in the future.

He collapses into pieces at the smooching noises, alternated with the occasional angry insult and moaning. Yep, he's way too far gone.

His face is still intact. The face of a broken man.


End file.
